Making a New World
by Hedda94
Summary: AU. Kurt and Blaine are both wounded soldiers in France during WWII. They become friends, but eventually they realize that there may be something more there. WARNING: character death Rated T for now but it might go up eventually
1. Chapter 1

Making a New World

_Kurt and Blaine are both wounded soldiers in France during the WWII. They meet after Kurt is brought in and they become friends, and maybe more... _

_Warnings: Character death (yeah I know, I'm sorry). Some swearing probably... And then of course, BOY KISSES! and stuff._

Chapter 1

_France, 1917_

It was the middle of the night. The room was quiet except for the harmonies of snores coming from the surrounding beds and the only source of light was the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Blaine Anderson, in the third bed to the right of the entrance, was the only one still awake. He was staring at the Red Cross sign hanging on the opposite wall and reading the tiny text on it for what must have been the 100th time. It was his second night in the hard bed and Blaine was confident he could recite the text in his sleep. The text was in Latin so he had no idea what any of it meant but it had kept him occupied during the nearly sleepless nights. It wasn't the pain from his injury that was keeping him up, nor was it the snoring from the 20 or so other beds in the room. Blaine was just so mind-numbingly bored. He had been fighting with his division for over 3 months, ever since the United States had joined the war, and now he didn't know what to do with himself. A book would have been appreciated but the VAD facility didn't have any to offer. The days had been more tolerable so far because he could talk to the other patients, two of the boys from Blaine's division were even situated in the same room as he, but at night he was alone.

Blaine sighed and glanced at the bed to the left of him. It was empty and freshly made, radiating deceiving comfort. During Blaine's short time in the ward two occupants of the bed had passed away, the second one not many hours prior and it saddened Blaine to think of his dead fellow soldiers. Perhaps death shouldn't affect him after the amount of dead bodies he had stepped over and possibly been the cause of before he landed in the hospital, but Blaine had yet to become immune to it. Maybe that was a good thing... With another sigh he turned his eyes back to the sign and started humming a lullaby softly to himself. He had never cared for counting sheep and besides, nighttime was the only time he could sing without anyone laughing at him. Suddenly his soft singing was interrupted by fast footsteps coming down the hall. Three nurses hurried through the room, paying no notice to Blaine who slid deeper under his blanket to shield himself from sight. One of the nurses silently opened the entrance door and two men carrying a stretcher stomped in. Blaine snuck a glance at the figure on the stretcher whilst almost completely covered. It was a boy, looking to be about 17 like Blaine, but it was hard to tell as his face was covered in blood. A big red stain was slowly spreading over a piece of cloth pressed over his stomach. The nurses were speaking with the two men in hushed voices and Blaine held his breath to try and hear what they were saying.

"What happened to this one?"

"A land mine. He must have been standing some way away from it because he was the only survivor."

"Injuries?"

"As far as we could tell he has a gash above his forehead and he has a piece of metal in the upper abdomen."

Blaine audibly winced but no one seemed to notice. The nurses motioned for the men to carry the stretcher into the back but before they made it out of the room the boy on it opened his eyes. They were the bluest eyes Blaine had ever seen and for a moment the two boys looked at each other as if transfixed by the others' gaze. But then the boy with the aquamarine eyes lost consciousness again and the stretcher was carried away. The room was empty again and not a single patient had been woken from their sleep. Blaine scooted up the bed again and glanced at the door where the boy had disappeared, his body slowly coming down from an adrenaline kick he hadn't even been aware of. As he let his head sink into the pillow he suddenly felt very tired. _I suppose I'm not bored anymore, _he thought to himself. He let his drooping eyelids fall shut and fell asleep with bright blue eyes swimming in his mind.

...

When Blaine woke up the next morning the sun was already rising high on the sky and patients and nurses were moving around the room. Blinking against the sunlight, Blaine sat up slowly and stretched carefully. Several men were sitting with empty trays in their laps and Blaine turned to see his own breakfast, consisting of a piece of bread and a glass of water, had been placed by his bed when he was asleep. Then, looking past the tray, he noticed that the bed next to his was occupied. It was the boy from last night who was lying with his eyes closed and a bandage wrapped around his head. Now, with the blood washed from his face, Blaine could confirm his guess that the boy must be around his own age. The lack of blood also allowed him to see how beautiful the soldier was. He had skin like porcelain with a few freckles dusting his cheeks here and there and his lips were cherry red against his pale face. A memory of blue crept into his mind and Blaine felt an urge to shake the boy in hopes of waking him so he could see those beautiful eyes again. He didn't of course. He was a gentleman after all.

" I see someone has woken from their little sleep-in," came a voice from behind Blaine. He turned around to see a nurse standing by his bed with an eyebrow raised. Blaine fell back against his pillow and smiled at her.

"Good morning, nurse Fabray! You look lovely as always," Blaine said with a dashing smile. Nurse Fabray smiled back and rolled her eyes fondly.

"Quite the charmer, aren't you?" she said and Blaine shrugged lightly. "Well Mr. Charming, it's time to change your bandages. Shirt off, please." She motioned at the paper-like shirt Blaine was wearing and proceeded to help him gently pull it over his head. The nurse took off the old bandages wrapped around his midsection and inspected his ribs with a prodding finger. "How much does that hurt?" she asked as if Blaine's sharp intake of breath wasn't enough answer.

"A lot," Blaine answered pointedly as she continued to poke at the bruises forming on his side. She gave him an apologetic smile as she started to lightly pull at his ribs and Blaine bit his tongue to keep from screaming. How long would this go on? As if she had read his mind, nurse Fabray straightened up and picked up a fresh roll of gauze and started rolling it tightly around Blaine's chest.

"Well, they are healing just fine, but you will probably have to deal with pain for a couple of weeks as the process is quite slow," she said as she fastened the gauze. Blaine released a shaky breath and nodded. His side was throbbing from the pressure the gauze provided but he didn't complain. It was necessary.

"Thank you," he said and she gave him a small smile.

"So how do you like your new bed mate?" she asked and gestured toward the unconscious boy next to Blaine. As he had yet to wake up and Blaine hadn't really gotten an impression of him he just shrugged noncommittally.

"What is his name?" Blaine asked instead and the woman leaning by his bed checked some papers she had with her.

"His uniform tag said Private Hummel and that's all we know. Well, that and that he's American." Blaine nodded silently and took the boy's face in once again. His bangs were falling across his forehead and in the sunlight the skin Blaine had thought looked like porcelain now looked almost luminescent and as he breathed even breaths he made little noises like-

"...go check on the other patients so eat your breakfast and call me if the pain increases." Blaine wasn't sure how long the nurse had been talking for but he smiled and nodded happily as she walked away. He leant back against his pillow and rested his eyes on the boy next to him again.

"Private Hummel," he whispered, his tongue trying out the name as his gaze trailed on fluttering eyelids. "I hope you wake up."

"Looks like you've been replaced, Anderson!" A man in a similar paper gown as Blaine's was approaching, supporting himself on a pair of wooden crutches. He looked like a typical soldier, tall, muscular and undeniably intimidating. Blaine raised an eyebrow at the grinning man.

"Good morning to you too, Puckerman," he said dryly. "How have I been replaced, might I ask?" Puckerman pointed at the unmoving figure to the left of Blaine with one of his crutches.

"Well, now that we have young Mr. Unconscious in our midst, you are no longer the new one, Anderson," he answered as he sat down heavily on Blaine's bed and placed his crutches across his lap. Blaine had met Noah Puckerman during his first day in the facility and he had taken it upon himself to be Blaine's "guide" to the place. He had been there for over 2 months due to an excessive leg injury caused by a collapsing house that had crushed one of his limbs and was apparently considered something of an expert. Blaine wasn't entirely sure if Puckerman had been a very helpful guide since the majority of his advice had consisted of ways of getting more food or how to get some private time with the nurses and Blaine was in great need of neither. He held his answer while Puckerman winked not very subtly at a passing nurse who giggled and smiled back coyly.

"I see," Blaine said with force to retrieve Puckerman's attention. "And I suppose I should be happy that this boy is hurt so that I can escape the _great _misfortune of being the "new one", am I?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He waited with a scowl for Puckerman to realize how horrible and inhumane the idea was but he only clapped Blaine on his leg and rose from his bed with a chuckle.

"Exactly!" Puckerman made his limping way over to the nurse he had been flirting with in passing and Blaine watched him go in a huff. Some guide he was.

...

The sun was setting before there was any movement from the bed next to Blaine's. He had just put aside his dinner tray, a vegetable soup made on pickled carrots and water, when he heard a small groan coming from the bed. He turned and looked on as Private Hummel started to stir and then slowly opened his eyes. The boy squinted against the light and then his eyes turned on Blaine. They were even more exquisite now. Bright blue with light swirls of green and grey in them and Blaine felt like he was never going to be able to look away.

"Hello," he said breathlessly and cleared his throat, blushing from the instability of his voice. "I was starting to worry you would never wake up," he tried with a steadier voice. The boy was staring at him like he was speaking Chinese and Blaine backtracked quickly. Nurse Fabray had said he was American, hadn't she? Maybe he hadn't been wearing his own tags and was actually French or something. Maybe he had brain damage after the blow to his head and didn't remember how to speak. "Do you need me to call for a nurse?" Blaine asked tentatively but he needn't worry.

"Where am I?" the boy asked in perfect English, perhaps somewhat hoarse, and Blaine breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have to bring out his gruesome French to communicate with the boy. Then he noticed that the boy in front of him looked almost terrified and of course, he was in a strange room with a boy he didn't know and he was most likely in pain. _Way to be a gentleman, Blaine. _

"I apologize. You are in a VAD facility in the south of France. You came in unconscious last night with some rather serious injuries but as far as I know they managed to repair the worst of it. Apparently you were standing by an exploding land mine but you must have been standing some distance away from it because you didn't get killed, obviously," Blaine was rambling and he knew it. He was quickly running out of air to speak but for some reason, when those ocean eyes were directed at him, he seemed to lose all proper brain function. He closed his mouth and drew a deep breath. "My name is Blaine Anderson."

He was granted a small smile that made his stomach flutter strangely.

"Kurt," the boy said. "Kurt Hummel."

_Kurt Hummel, _Blaine mused. _Yes, he looked like a Kurt. _

"Nice to meet you, Kurt Hummel."

"Nice to meet you, Blaine Anderson."

**Sooo, what do you think? I have a second chapter almost completely written but it needs editing so it might take a few days before I can upload it. But it is coming! **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Kurt shifted around uncomfortably in his bed. He was trying to find a position that wouldn't leave him with permanent back damage, but so far he had been unsuccessful. _Whoever built this bed must have been having a _bad _day, _Kurt thought to himself as he turned over yet again.

"Is it the bed?" Kurt looked up to find the boy in the bed next to his, Blaine Anderson, watching him with a sympathetic smile. He had been awake for only a few hours and the sky had turned dark, making it hard for him to see Blaine's face properly. He tried to focus his gaze on Blaine's eyes, which were shining like molten gold in the light glowing from the candles in the room, and nodded.

"You'd think that a hole in the stomach would be pain enough," he muttered dryly. Blaine chuckled lightly and then seemed to rethink his action as his face turned into one of pity.

"Does it hurt badly?" he asked and Kurt considered telling him the truth - that yes, it felt like someone was constantly trying to dig through his stomach with their bare hands, but even for him that seemed slightly too over dramatic.

"I'm just happy to be alive," he said with a shrug and Blaine nodded. "Speaking of being alive," Kurt continued with a glance around the room. "The other men from my division, did any of them get placed here. Do you know?" Blaine's face fell and he looked away from Kurt's. _Well, that doesn't bode well._

"Kurt... I can't be sure but when they brought you in they... they said that you were the only survivor," Blaine said in almost a whisper. "I'm sorry." Kurt looked down at his hands and took a shaky breath. _None of them survived? Not Mike? Not Sam? Not anyone?_ During the short time he had spent together with his division, even under the horrible circumstances they had been in, they had become friends. General Schuester had always been a bit too enthusiastic about things but he had made them a team and he had loved them. He never said it, but Kurt knew it to be true, you could just tell. And now he was dead. They were all dead.

"Kurt?"

Kurt pulled his gaze away from his hands and looked back at Blaine.

"I suppose I just never thought something like this would ever..."

"I know," Blaine said sadly, like any of this was his fault.

"It's stupid really," he said, rolling his eyes at himself. "It's not like I didn't come into all of this knowing that people would... It's stupid." Blaine shook his head sharply and it looked like he was going to reach for Kurt's hand, but he didn't.

"It's not stupid. Out there, they were the only ones you had and now they are gone. There is nothing stupid about missing them or being sad that they are gone." Blaine said all of it with such force and passion that Kurt felt his eyes become misty with tears. He had known this boy for mere hours and he already seemed to know just what to say to make Kurt feel better.

"Thank you," he said softly and Blaine smiled at him as a comfortable silence fell over the two of them. Blaine closed his eyes and Kurt assumed that he was going to sleep so he decided to do the same. He took a last look at the other boy's resting form before he closed his own eyes. _I wonder why he's in here._

"Anderson!" Kurt jumped high as a voice yelled out across the room but Blaine didn't even flinch. "Why didn't you let any of us know that Private Hummel was awake?" A nurse with dark skin and a smile on her face was moving between the hospital beds with a clipboard under her arm.

"My apologies, nurse Jones," Blaine said without opening his eyes. "It must have slipped my mind." He smiled a crooked smile as the nurse tutted at him in joking disapproval. The girl, 'nurse Jones' Blaine had called her, came to stand in between their beds and placed her clipboard on Blaine's legs with what looked like unnecessary force.

"Don't you use that tone with me, Anderson. Remember that I handle your medication," she said and then turned to Kurt. "Hello, darling. My name is nurse Jones but you can call me Mercedes. I'm glad to see you awake. We were worried about you." Kurt smiled at the bubbly girl. He liked her right away.

"Hello Mercedes. My name is Kurt Hummel but you can call me Kurt. And I'm sorry to have caused you to worry, it was very rude of me," said Kurt and Mercedes giggled.

"Are you as much of a gentleman as my friend Blaine here, Mr Hummel?" she asked with a smirk and Kurt glanced at Blaine. He thought back on how nice Blaine had been when Kurt woke up and how gentle and apologetic he had been when he had told Kurt about his division.

"Hardly."

...

When Kurt woke up the next morning he first couldn't remember where he was. He could hear birds chirping outside like normal but he wasn't lying in a bunker next to other men and for some reason his head was throbbing like someone had hit him with a baseball bat. Then he remembered. He sat up quickly and there was a stabbing pain in his stomach. He winced audibly and fell back against his pillow, which wasn't a very good idea either as it only made his head hurt more.

"Are you alright?" Kurt turned toward the voice to find Blaine sitting and watching him with an empty tray in his lap. He looked worried, but all Kurt could focus on was how his eyes now were a deep hazel instead of the gold they had been last night. It was breathtaking. "Kurt? Are you in pain? Should I call for a nurse?" _Oh. Blaine was speaking to him. Right. _

"No, I'm fine! Thank you," he hastened to say and Blaine seemed to relax.

"How was your first night in the bed of grave misfortune?" Blaine asked jokingly and Kurt snorted.

"It was alright. Although technically it was my second night, was it not?" Kurt said and Blaine shrugged.

"Well, I didn't feel like the night you were unconscious counted," he said with a lopsided smile that was all too attractive. _Wait. _What was he even thinking? Blaine was a boy who had shown a fellow soldier some sympathy, nothing more. So therefor it was very stupid of Kurt to be thinking about his smile. He should stop. Really.

"Fair point," he smiled. Their eyes locked for a moment and Kurt's smile fell, feeling like the twinkle of amusement in Blaine's hazel eyes was almost hypnotizing. Then Blaine cleared his throat and dropped his gaze, making Kurt blush for no apparent reason.

"You should eat you breakfast," he said and motioned at the breakfast tray by Kurt's bed. Kurt looked at it and all though the content didn't look too appealing his stomach was growling angrily so he picked it up anyway.

"Yes, I suppo-"

"Anderson!" Blaine groaned and gave Kurt a tired look.

"Do people always yell at you like this?" Kurt asked and Blaine nodded with a pained look on his face. He gave Blaine what he hoped looked like a sympathetic smile and glanced behind Blaine at the two men who had been the ones screaming. One of them looked oriental and had his head wrapped in a bandage like Kurt and the other one had dark skin like his nurse (_had her name been Mercedes?)_ and had one of his arms in a sling. They both had mischievous grins plastered on their faces and Blaine, although he had put on a face of annoyance, seemed happy to see them. When they arrived at Blaine's bedside they both threw themselves on it in unison, making Blaine splutter as his tray clattered to the floor.

"Good morning, Blaine!" said the boy with the bandaged head with an overly enthusiastic voice.

"Good morning," answered Blaine with a disapproving voice and then the boy with the sling turned toward Kurt.

"Blaine, you haven't introduced us to your new friend!" he said accusingly. The bandaged boy turned toward Kurt as well and with both of them staring at him Kurt felt himself slide a little deeper under the covers of his bed.

"He is new, isn't he Blaine?" the bandaged boy ventured and Blaine proceeded to shove the two boys off him with a scoff.

"Yes, he is. Wes, David, this is Kurt. Kurt, this is Wes and David. We are all in the same division up north, although Wes and David are somewhat above me in rank," Blaine explained and Wes, the oriental looking one, shook his head.

"Not for long with the way the General fawns over you," he said and David, the dark skinned one, nodded in agreement. Kurt, who hadn't said a thing since the arrival of the two whirlwinds that apparently were Blaine's friends, took a deep breath and straightened up.

"It's very nice to meet both of you," he said with a polite smile and the two boys grinned back at him.

"And you, Kurt," David said. "We hope Blaine here has been pleasant to you thus far."

"And if he hasn't, just say the word and we'll talk to our General and get him bumped down to gun polisher," Wes added and Blaine kicked him deliberately so he went tumbling off the bed.

"Don't worry, he has," Kurt said while trying to suppress the laughter bubbling in his chest. He figured that laughing at a newly made acquaintance probably didn't give the best first impression. Instead he chose to swallow his laugh and watch on quietly as David helped Wes up from the floor with his working arm.

...

Wes and David spent the good part of an hour lounging on Blaine's bed and animatedly discussing their division and life at the VAD facility. Kurt mostly sat quiet and listened and laughed occasionally at something particularly funny. He found that he liked the slightly older boys and the high energy they brought with them. Then, suddenly, Wes and David raised their heads in unison and their eyes widened.

"Oho," they said in one voice.

"It's Berry," Wes hissed as he and David scrambled off the bed.

"We better get going," David said quickly and they ran off without another word. Kurt looked after them in confusion but Blaine didn't seem to find anything odd in their sudden departure.

"What is 'berry'?" Kurt asked but Blaine didn't have to answer him.

"That would be me," a girl who had appeared by Kurt's side said with a little curtsy. She had long brown hair, was wearing the same nurse uniform as Mercedes and was resting her hands on her hips in a very reprimanding manor. "Those two," she pointed after Wes and David who had escaped back to their own beds, "know that I don't like it when they run around in the ward. Frankly they are a safety hazard to everyone." She shook her head disapprovingly, and then she seemed to remember that she was there for a reason. She extended one of her arms to shake Kurt's with the same smile as before back on her lips. "You must be Kurt Hummel. My name is Rachel Berry and I - oh shoot!" She exclaimed the last part loudly before she clasped her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, I'm supposed to introduce myself as nurse Berry but I always seem to forget," she said through her fingers with a solemn sigh. Kurt however, who had been met by Mercedes, who had completely disregarded that particular rule, didn't mind.

"That's alright, really, you don't have to apologize. You have a very nice name, it would be a shame to let it go to waste," he said in an attempt to cheer Rachel up and it seemed to have worked because she removed her hands from her mouth and her smile was back in place again.

"That's very nice of you to say. But enough about that! I'm actually here to check your stitches and change your bandages," she said and started pulling off his paper garment. Kurt cast a quick look at Blaine to find that he had, to Kurt's great relief, respectfully averted his gaze in another direction. For some reason he didn't want Blaine to see him bare-chested when he had a big wound on his stomach. Rachel asked him to lean back against the pillows and then she started carefully removing his bandages. When they came off Kurt could see for the first time what shape his body was actually in. It wasn't pretty. The stitches created a two or three inches long line in a big, red swelling right bellow his diaphragm and when Rachel lightly touched it with her fingertip he winced at the sharp stab of pain.

"It doesn't seem to be infected," she said and that was good, right? "but I still need to clean it with some alcohol and that is going to be slightly painful." Rachel took out a ball of cotton and poured something on it that made Kurt's nose sting and burn. He took a bracing breath and the she started gently dabbing the wound with the cotton ball. She had been right - it was painful - very painful actually. It kind of felt like he was being poked in the stomach by sharp needles, or possibly knives, but he took deep breaths and it was over fairly quickly. When it was, Rachel wrapped his stomach up in new bandages and helped him put his gown back on again.

"How does your head feel?" she asked.

"It hurt a lot this morning but it has gotten better," Kurt said truthfully. Rachel nodded knowingly and patted him lightly on the shoulder.

"That's good. Someone will be back later to check on you," she said and with that she got up and left. Kurt readjusted himself in his bed as he watched her go and thought that, just as he had with Mercedes, he really liked Rachel.

"No problems I hope," Blaine said, interrupting his thoughts and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Are you really going to pretend like you didn't hear that entire conversation?" Kurt asked and Blaine shrugged with an innocent smile.

"How big are my chances of getting away with it?" he shot back.

"Low."

"Shame." They both smiled at each other, and again they held each other's gaze until Blaine looked away with a light cough.

"So," Kurt started after a tense silence, "we all know what brought me here. How come you landed here? If you don't mind me asking."

"Not at all," Blaine answered lightly. "I fell down a crater left after a land mine and broke two of my ribs. It's not that serious, it's just going to take a while for them to heal. I suppose I should be grateful, really."

"How do you mean?" Kurt questioned. "That you are grateful that you're in here?"

"No, not like that," Blaine said. "I mean that I should be grateful that nothing worse happened to me. Like you said before, I'm happy to be alive, really. My father went into the war before me, but he lost one of his legs in battle and got sent home with an honorary medal. Compared to that I should say I was very lucky." Kurt hadn't expected for Blaine to start telling him about his family, if only briefly, and for a moment he didn't know what to say to such a horrible story.

"Yes, I suppose compared to that most of us are lucky. I'm very sorry about your father. But at least he didn't have to fight in the war anymore," Kurt added to try and make Blaine feel better. He didn't look very convinced though.

"No, he didn't," Blaine said simply. Kurt felt like there was more to the story that Blaine wasn't saying but he decided to ignore it. It wasn't his place to pry anyway.

…

They both sat quietly after that, watching nurses walk back and forth with various medicines, bandages and trays of food. At one point nurse Rachel and a blonde nurse with swaying hips and a fierce look stormed by in the midst of a heated argument, but Kurt didn't pick up more than "it would just be much easier!" from Rachel and a shrill "Oh, really?" from the blonde nurse before they had stomped into the nurses' station and slammed the door shut behind them. Kurt looked after them in wonderment, but no one else seemed to have noticed the exchange. He glanced at Blaine who was looking at the same closed door as Kurt with a raised eyebrow.

"Are all the nurses here… I mean…" Kurt started and Blaine gave him a meaningful look.

"Mad?" he offered and Kurt nodded. "As far as I have noticed, yes."

"Good to know."

**There you have it, chapter 2! The next chapter probably won't be up until, like, August, because I'm going away soon and won't be back until then. But it will be up, I swear! **

**Reviews are always appreciated ;)**


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